


Fluffuary 1 — Prinxiety

by mossdehart



Series: Fluffuary 2020 [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Platonic Relationships, alternative universe, cryptid AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossdehart/pseuds/mossdehart
Summary: “You could of just said ‘hello’, Virge— no need for the dramatic entrance. I fell on my bottom.” Roman muttered, slowly lifting himself back up to a sitting position. The demon chuckled, throwing a leg over the bridge’s railing, pulling himself over to stand in front of Roman.“Wasn’t trying to scare ya, little man.” Virgil held out a hand, helping his human friend to his feet.(Platonic Prinxiety, Romantic Logince)(Actor! Roman, Goatman! Virgil)
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Fluffuary 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639657
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Fluffuary 1 — Prinxiety

The streets of Candle Cove were mostly empty— the soft glow of the winter sun had only just started creeping over the smoky horizon. This small town was always quiet this time of day, no one would be awake for at least another hour. That is what made sunup Roman’s favourite time of day. 

Roman Ashworth walked down a cobble sidewalk at the edge of town, his hands shoved into the pockets of his puffy red jacket and the front of said jacket pulled up over the lower half of his face. It was only early February; still winter, and still very, very cold. 

The Candle Cove Theatre wouldn’t be open for another hour, but Roman desperately needed to get out of his house. He glanced at the building as he walked past it, biting down on a chapped lip, the faint coppery taste of blood on his tongue. As he finally shook his gaze away from the theatre, he took a deep breath of air that stung his lungs. He could feel eyes staring at the back of his head. Either that haunted old theatre was making him paranoid, or one of its nonhuman residents was keeping an eye on their favourite actor. 

The thin path Roman travelled down continued until the edge of town, where there was nothing but a dirt road and an old wooden “Welcome to Candle Cove!” sign, that was mostly worn away, and currently covered in a thin layer of frost. Instead of turning back, or going left or right down down the road, Roman continued to walk forward, pushing aside some branches from a twiggy bush. There was a very thin, new path here. A shortcut that he and Logan has stumbled upon a while ago. 

Roman rubbed his hands together, moving them up to rub his nose and cheeks. If Logan were here, he would be chastising his boyfriend for not bringing gloves or a hat or his phone— and Roman rolled his eyes just thinking about it. Even if Logan would be right. 

Roman stumbled over a cluster of small bushes, cursing under his breath and leaning against a thin tree. He pushed his way through the thicket, and after a minute, came out at another thin, dirt path. Old Alton Bridge stood before him, a wide wooden bridge that used to carry cars to and from town. But that was long before Roman arrived in town.

A layer of ice covered the blackened wooden boards, so Roman was careful not to fall on his face. He stayed near the edge as he stepped onto the bridge, one hand leaving its pocket of warmth to grab ahold of the chipped, red railing. He carefully walked to the centre of the bridge, taking a slow look around. 

Roman leaned forward against the icy cold railing, glancing downwards to try to catch a glimpse of what’s under there. And he doesn’t mean the river, which he can faintly hear sloshing around. The shadows from the trees and the woods itself made it fairly dark; it was difficult to see anything below the bridge. 

A slow creak echoed from under the bridge, and Roman took a reflexive step backwards. It was just his luck that he happened to step on a particularly slippery patch of ice, falling backwards. He winced, choking for a moment as the wind was knocked out of him. Instead of getting up, he laid flat on his back, coughing and rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

When Roman looked back up, he wasn’t surprised to see Virgil. A lanky, horned figure stood on the other side of the railing, on the very edge of the bridge, draping himself forward over the railing. His bright, unsettling eyes were fixed on a Roman as he tapped a cloven hoof slowly against the wooden planks. 

“You could of just said ‘hello’, Virge— no need for the dramatic entrance. I fell on my bottom.” Roman muttered, slowly lifting himself back up to a sitting position. The demon chuckled, throwing a leg over the bridge’s railing, pulling himself over to stand in front of Roman. 

“Wasn’t trying to scare ya, little man.” Virgil held out a hand, helping his human friend to his feet. 

Roman stood up, brushing the snow off his pants and clearing his throat. “It’s alright, you just... took me by surprise. I thought you only came out at night?” 

Virgil shrugged, leaning back against the bridge’s railing, causing it to squeak. “It’s not like I need to sleep, Ro. But you do. You look like garbage— did you even sleep at all last night?” 

The dark circles and less-than-perfect hairdo Roman was currently rocking spoke for themselves. He grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest, and sticking his face back down into the front of his jacket. 

“Eh, I can sleep when I’m dead. Just a little insomnia, nothing I need a demon’s assistance with.” Roman chuckled, walking forward, standing next to Virgil against the railing. 

The two of them stood together in silence for several minutes. Roman tried to look cool, shoving his hands back into his pockets, leaning backwards against the railing. Though, as soon as he heard it creak, he jumped straight back up. He tried to pretend Virgil didn’t see— but the smirk on his face was clear, even in the dim lighting. 

Roman wondered if Logan would be awake soon, grimacing when he realized that he most definitely would be. And Roman had just left the house without telling him, and hadn’t taken his phone. For most people that wouldn’t be a problem— Roman was an adult man, he could go wherever he pleased— but when monsters and demons and ghosts are constantly after you like some sort of video game princess, people are going to worry if you just up and disappear. 

But Roman had come out here to clear his mind, and he wasn’t going back until he had done just that. Virgil, though quiet and more than a little intimidating, was surprisingly good company. 

Small, cold flakes drifted down, landing on Roman’s mostly numb face. He glanced upward, watching as the light snow began falling, a smile tugging on his lips. 

Virgil squinted at the snow, his rectangular pupils showing very little emotion behind them. A few flakes started to mix in with his fur, but didn’t melt. 

Roman was drowsy. He wasn’t sure if it was lack of sleep catching up to him, the cold, or the soothing sound of the river below him. He allowed his eyes to close, leaning to the side against Virgil’s side. 

The goatman tensed for a moment, then relaxed, squinting down at the exhausted human. 

Roman awoke in a bed. His bed, back at his and Logan’s apartment. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat right up, taking a look around. Logan shifted from where he laid next to him, reaching a hand over to turn off the alarm that Roman didn’t notice was blaring. 

Logan’s hand reached over and grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, slipping them on and turning to face his boyfriend. “Mm, morning.” He mumbled, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss. 

Then Logan frowned, reaching over and placing a warm hand on Roman’s cheek. “You’re freezing, my prince.” 

Roman swallowed, smiling and moving closer, burying his face in Logan’s shoulder. “Ah— yeah, weird? We can rest for a few more minutes, right?” 

Logan looked down, running his fingers through Roman’s hair, frowning as a few water droplets melted onto his fingers. “I’m... I’m sure that can be arranged.”

The two of them lied back down, Roman resting his eyes and warming up against his partner. He didn’t remember walking home, but he must of just been too exhausted. 

The sun rises into the sky, and the world awakens. The light snow from earlier that morning begins to melt— erasing the faint hoof prints in the street before anyone gets a chance to find them.


End file.
